Swigs of Sweet Poison
by Lissy Stage
Summary: Winky reflects. Written for Round 1 of the Finals for the Quidditch League Competition. Gen, Hogwarts Era.


**Title:** Swigs of Sweet Poison

**Beta:** CleopatraIsMyName

**Word Count:** About 1300

**Rating:** PG

**Challenges/Prompts:** Written for Round 1 of the Finals for The Quidditch League Competition / prompts were #3, Everything Happens For a Reason; #7, Feast; and #13, Train.

**Disclaimer:** This work of fiction is in no way connected to the author of Harry Potter, JK Rowling. Harry Potter is owned by her, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

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><p>"What's the use of having a house elf, if they disappoint you every single step of the way?" her master had barked on a particularly dark, dark night. Winky hadn't really comprehended what was going on at the time; that is, until she was forced into startling clarity amidst panic and the sounds of her strangled voice, pleads echoing into the night. The entire situation had seemed to go so fast, at the time. One moment, she had had her young master tucked away beneath an invisibility cloak, her eyes closed, for she was terrified of being so far up in the air, and before she knew it… her young master had broken from under Master Crouch's control, and the rest was somewhat of a blur.<p>

Days later, she could only really remember the disgusted words her master had spat at her, the sounds of echoing footfalls striding down an empty corridor, the socks thrust into her face, and her cries. Later, the Aurors had questioned for what seemed hours, but was probably only a few minutes, about the wand and the Dark magic that had been cast through it. Despite not really understanding what they were asking her, Winky don't know_ no Dark magic,_ the suspicion had remained there.

Being released from her service as a Crouch house elf was even more humiliating than even finding herself an elf of Hogwarts castle had been; though she should've known what was bound to happen: most elves to whom socks had been given with such unshakable certainty were turned to the magical school. It was a disgrace.

And while Winky liked serving again, especially for the bunches of children it promised, the fact was that she would rather be with her family; it was a thing with house elves: they just want to be with their own kind, working for the people for whom they were made for. Winky had an attachment to the Crouches because of that obligation.

As far she knew, house elves were created specifically for this type of work. She loved her family with all her heart. They were the only thing she really knew; the waking times of the Crouches, the foods they liked, which children would probably kick up a fuss, and an endless amount of other information.

And no matter what anyone said, her master would always be special to her.

But when it grew too much…

See, when you're a generational house elf – that is, a house elf that is automatically created due to the magic surrounding a wizarding family's ancestral home, though it varies from family to family, and depends on the conditions surrounding it – there is a certain magic that seems to bind you as closely as possible to that family. She was completely and irreparably tied to the Crouches, and she doesn't really mind it. This is her birth right; her mother before her, the house elf who had raised her from when she was but a babe, served the family, as did her mother's raiser, and it just goes on from there.

Being tied that closely to one entire household, being created for the sole purpose of being at that family's beck-and-call… Winky was never going to turn her backs on them; no, not as her great master had done to her. Winky, however, would always love him. She was there for his birthing, after all. She felt a maternal instinct for that man.

Her master would someday come running back, she knew it. Or, at least, she thought she knew it. She could distantly hear the voice of her mother rocking her to sleep, "All thing happen for reason, ickle one, for the magic no make mistake."

Being at this castle, no matter how comforting and somewhat right it felt, would always be a huge betrayal of everything she knew. Even if he came running back, would he even want her after she had been sentenced here? Maybe it was better that he didn't. After all, Winky had been a bad elf. She had failed him.

She immediately diverted from that train of thought, instead picturing her sweet poison at the front of her mind. Every swig of that bottle of Butterbeer brought everything into further focus, but ironically muddled. She may outwardly act the part of the fool, but she was sharp as ever inside.

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><p>"Winky," she heard the familiar scolding squeak of another elf. Turning, Winky noticed the clothing and mismatched socks. With instant recognition, she returned to her earlier duties.<p>

She could feel the burn of a gaze on the back of her neck. Shaking her head, Winky put down the plate she was assembling and turned to look at the other house elf.

"What does you want?"

"Dobby see Winky with Butterbeer. Dobby worry for Winky," Dobby whispered, wringing his hands. "Please, Winky shouldn't drunk so much. Winky get sick!"

"Winky will do what Winky wants," Winky narrowed her gaze, before huffing irritably and turning around.

"Hogwarts Feast almost start in little," Dobby continued on. Winky felt an unfamiliar sensation of anger curl up within her very being. Blinking rapidly, she took her hands off the food and flat atop the counter. She curled her hands into small fists as she took a deep breath and exercised the greatest amount of patience and control. When she felt she wouldn't immediately snap, she continued preparing the food she was ordered to make.

She smiled in satisfaction at the carefully made dessert. Chocolate Crunch had always been her master's favourite dessert, always served away from his parents' prying eyes. Most people wouldn't know it, but his parents were always around; his mother doted on him without shame, though his father wasn't nearly as around as anyone would've wanted.

Looking back, Winky could guess how things went wrong. The Crouches, however kind and generous they behaved, weren't above getting involved in certain questionable deals never mentioned about the dining hall table.

Sighing, Winky paused in her admiration, a sinking feeling in her gut. A cautious touch on her shoulder caused her to flinch. Spinning around, she glared balefully at the other elf. The look on his face caused Winky to turn away. She felt oddly guilty, but quickly shook it off.

"Dobby need mind Dobby's business. Winky will do what Winky do, Dobby do what Dobby do," she calmly stated, staring at the perfectly readied sweets. She scrunched her nose up a bit at an oddly sprinkled bit of sugar and waved her hand, redistributing them about the dessert. With a nod, Winky felt satisfied with her work, up to now.

The next few moments were ones of calm, the calmest she'd experienced in the years since… since her master had lost his parents, she realised. He'd closed himself off from the world; his once bright, joyful grins had shrivelled to mere shadows of their former glory. It was painful how quickly the boy had seemed to reject Winky. But Winky loved her master, all the same.

The strength of her contradicting thoughts and feelings were all Winky could focus on as the memories enfolded her tightly, contrasting with the broken ties she felt in her core. A scolding voice caught her attention distantly, and when she turned to look, an older elf and Dobby stared at her incredulously. She recognised, with her own matching expression, that they must have started calling for her attention some time ago.

She took a shaky breath, before picking her head back up.

"Yes?"

The older elf and Dobby traded an indecipherable look.

"Yous better ready deserts for students, Express near here," and with a final eye of assessment, the elf left to further inspect the other elves.

And Winky closed her eyes, pulled on her ears, and dreamt of foggy thoughts and searing heat.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

Merlin, this was really hard to write. D;


End file.
